


FUCK LET'S GET MARRIED

by Tasbine



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-19
Updated: 2012-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasbine/pseuds/Tasbine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Karkat and Terezi's Earth Wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FUCK LET'S GET MARRIED

Dave used to have a picture of Owen Wilson hanging next to his bed, during one of his more embarrassing fits of pre-teen fanaticism. He used to see that face every day and every night. He used to delight in seeing that face. Sometimes he would let his then thirteen years old eyes drift around his room, and sometimes those eyes would settle on that one picture and it was just, wow, that was Owen Wilson’s face.  
  
Starsky and Hutch was _one hell of a movie_. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.  
  
However, now that Dave was older, wiser, and much better at assessing the physical attributes of an adult male, he had to admit, the nose on that face was starting to get to him. The idea that that nose was one of those he got up and undressed and dressed in front of everyday was beginning to unnerve him in ways it hadn’t when he was younger.  
  
He was maybe, just a little, freaking out. And Terezi just sat by him, unaware, blissfully blind, as Owen Wilson moved about before her on his TV screen and that nose jutted out at odd angles.  
  
As she continued to watch, though, a crease began forming in-between her eyebrows. As if she was having trouble processing what was going on in the movie. Occasionally she would lean forward. Sometimes she would cock her head to the side. She fidgeted frequently and she twisted her mouth into a grimace often.  
  
But Dave just sat there, trapped in the internal mechanisms of his mind, unaware, tumultuously preoccupied.  
  
So she asked him, “What is even the point of this movie?“  
  
Reverie thus broken, Dave answered, “Shit, Terezi, what is the point of any RomCom?”  
  
The corners of her mouth twisted downward.  
  
Dave continued, “Blah, blah, blah, love triumphs over all. You try to escape it but it will hunt you down like a bloodhound with a T-1000 chip installed. Try and run as fast you can, but in the end you’re just going to be another mangled, unidentifiable corpse left to rot in the woods.”  
  
“You’re being cynical,” she said.  
  
Dave shrugged. “I guess now all I have to do is wait, since this seems to be the part where I get swept off my feet against my better judgment, right?”  
  
Her mouth twisted again; the resulting grin, maniacal.  
  
“Hehe. This is how humans do it then? Human Romance? By undergoing these ceremonies of public humiliation to prove their “love”?” She asked, referring back to the film they were in the process of watching.  
  
Dave was about to say something about that, something to correct her before she got the wrong idea about weddings and marriage, but then they both got distracted by the movie when a white, layered cake happened to collide with Owen Wilson’s unfortunate face. Ouch.  
  
“Do you think Karkat has ever seen this movie?” Terezi asked.  
  
“Fuck if I would know,” Dave said. “Probably?”  
  
“If not, he’s probably seen something like it,” she said. She let her arms curl inwards briefly, held her hands together leveled with her chest for just a moment, before letting every limb of her body unfold and once again occupy the majority of the couch.     
  
Dave never thought anything of it then but at some point, way in the future, he came to realize that that shit was her way of being _romantic_.


End file.
